


it's softening to be softening

by wolfchester



Series: you guys are losers [1]
Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gen, and ned.....ned is just the best of them all, friends becoming friends - Freeform, in my mind MJ looks badass but is actually super awkward, peter is even more awkward, rated T for swearing oooooOOOOOO
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 12:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14873426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfchester/pseuds/wolfchester
Summary: “my friends call me MJ.”“I thought you didn’t have any friends?”“I...didn’t.”michelle decides to let ned and peter make friends with her. it ends up going pretty well.





	1. the lunch date and the art show

**Author's Note:**

> title is from: 'byegone' by volcano choir

When your absent father doesn’t give a shit and your mom gets itchy feet if she stays in one city for too long, you find it’s kinda hard to make friends at school when you know you’ll probably be leaving again at the end of the year. That’s why when she arrived at Midtown Tech in freshman year, MJ found it easier to let herself fade into the background. If you don’t make friends, it doesn’t suck as much when you have to leave.

MJ thought it would be the same deal with New York. Enroll for a year, mom gets sick of the city and wants to move to Oregon or some shit, so she leaves. Except this time, it didn’t quite happen that way. In the winter of freshman year, MJ’s mom met a guy named Seb, and they fell in love or whatever, and now her mom doesn’t want to leave New York. It’s alright, though, because they live in Seb’s apartment in Queens and it’s not that bad, and Seb’s a pretty good dad-stand-in. 

But then she starts sophomore year absolutely friendless with no idea how to change that fact.

And it’s not like MJ is some total weirdo incapable of making friends. Yeah, she looks harsh or intimidating on the outside, but the Allison Reynolds-inspired outfits she wears are chosen very carefully, her curls are artfully messed, and the devil-may-care attitude is only really half the truth. Yes, she likes The National and Joy Division, but she also really likes Ariana Grande’s new album and thinks post-’Your Body is a Wonderland’ John Mayer isn’t half bad. Still, there’s a desire inside her to be different than everyone else, and it’s why when she arrives at Midtown Tech and sees the sea of stereotypical preppy kids, she chooses to lean into her darker, quieter, snarkier side.

Years of watching John Hughes films and Freaks and Geeks in no way prepared her for the total ridiculousness of a New York high school. Especially when one of your acquaintances (they’re not quite friends, yet) seems to be hiding this massive secret that might just coincide with the frequent “Spider-Man” sightings all around the city. That in itself is a what-the-fuck moment. It wasn’t until like ten years ago the word “superhero” was ever founded in reality. And up until she moved to New York from Atlanta, she had never believed the media hype or the rumours about a super-powered old man who was trapped in ice for seventy years or a billionaire who made himself a flying metal suit/robot hybrid. Now there’s some guy in a red and blue leotard swinging around Queens stopping buses from crashing and returning stolen bikes, and she’s pretty sure he goes to her high school.

After the elevator fiasco at the Washington Monument, MJ’s suspicions are confirmed. Peter Parker - dorky, quiet, and weirdly good-looking - is Spider-Man. Nobody tells her outright (she doesn’t even think anyone else suspects), but she puts two and two together after Peter’s disappearances at the Decathlon match up perfectly with the appearance of the spider guy at the Monument. It helps that Ned and Peter are the worst at whispering - she’s heard enough about “the Stark internship” that she knows it’s not about delivering coffees and shredding paper. Also, she’d recognise Peter’s voice anywhere. Spending every Tuesday lunch listening to someone rattle off practice answers to quiz questions for a year and a half will do that to a person’s brain.

It’s not that she’s obsessed with him. She’s just very observant. 

The first time she has an actual conversation with Peter that goes beyond talk of decathlon and one sentence responses happens the day after she’s named captain, when he asks MJ if she wants to sit with Ned and him at lunch after biology.

“I mean, if you’d rather sit by yourself, that’s cool, too. I’d feel bad if I didn’t ask-“ Peter stops mid-sentence, realising how condescending his words sounded. “Not that I pity you or anything! If you want to be a loner that’s none of my- oh my God.” His face flushes light pink and he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

MJ ignores the subtle, awful feeling of being pitied and slides a small smile onto her face. She wanted to make friends, and this is it. “It’s okay. I guess I can grace your loser table with my presence. Just this once.”

Peter perks up, his face returning to his usual colour. “Oh. Cool. Well, you know where we sit. I mean, you already sit there, too, but like, if you want to sit closer and-”

“-and pretend like I’m actually friends with you nerds? Yeah, I get it.” MJ smiles and shuffles the leather strap of her bag tighter on her shoulder. “See you at lunch.”

She turns around before Peter gets a chance to say goodbye, Doc Martens clunking on the linoleum floor. 

 

* * *

 

The inaugural lunch with Ned and Peter goes surprisingly well. Ned asks her way too many questions about her life before New York, which she gives elaborate and totally untrue answers to (“my mom is in witness protection and we had to move here to get away from her stalker”). Peter just eats his fries while watching them with amusement, interjecting every so often to utter a “Ned, you’re so dumb, honestly”. 

She spends lunch break with them again the next day, and the day after that, and after that, until it’s been weeks since Peter first asked her. MJ finds herself enjoying the boys’ company more each time. She still acts like she doesn’t care, still calls them losers, still makes fun of their dorky slogan t-shirts. But it’s all less of the truth now, and more of an act. She thinks they know it, too. 

Ned laughs at her jokes and sarcastic quips, always shares his lunch, and seems to know way too much about the wider Star Wars universe than the average person which makes her pretty sure he secretly writes fan fiction. He’s kind and annoyingly over-exuberant and a great friend to Peter, especially when he’s a superhero who consistently cancels on hang-outs because of crime-fighting (again, with the whispering).

Her perception of Peter is a little harder to define. He’s Spider-Man, obviously, and the fact that no-one knows about it shows MJ that he either likes the anonymity of secrecy and a mask, is too humble to show off about it, or is keeping it secret to maintain the safety of those around him. Maybe it’s a mix of all three. Either way, she’s impressed. He’s a sixteen going-on-seventeen year old nerd who suddenly got superpowers and muscles overnight, yet he chooses to stick to the things he’s always been good at, and keep his old friends. MJ’s seen Spider-Man in action in YouTube clips - Peter is strong as  _ fuck _ , as well as being ridiculously fast and agile. He’d have been a great quarterback if he’d ever trialed for the school team (who are unsurprisingly pretty shit). And along with the superhero schtick is his gentleness, his helpfulness. He trips over words and brushes off achievements in class, contributing his success to others. Peter’s got this wonder in him that shines through his eyes when he learns something new, or wins a round at academic decathlon, or tells a bad joke. Like, to Peter, the whole world isn’t all that bad. 

Again: she’s not obsessed, just observant.

Peter is too, based off of the way he looks at her when he thinks she’s not looking. Like she’s a strange new animal in the zoo of an origin that no-one’s figured out yet. All soft, curious eyes and lopsided smiles.

It’s embarrassing. Honestly.

One lunch break, when Ned is off school sick, Peter catches her sketching. 

“That doesn’t look like your normal people-in-crisis stuff,” he says, crunching down on a carrot stick. “What’s it for?”

If MJ was taken off guard by the direct question from a normally bumbling Peter, she doesn’t show it, just continues to draw. “Art class. I have to complete a portfolio by the end of the semester.”

“Oh. Cool.” He rests his chin in his hand and just...sits there. Staring. It’s uncomfortable because he’s kind of looking over her shoulder while she draws, and she hates that. (It’s also uncomfortable because it’s Peter, and unwavering attention from him sometimes makes her feel...whatever. It’s annoying.) 

After a couple minutes, MJ just has to say something. “Do you have a question, or…”

Peter blinks and looks up, his gaze refocusing on MJ. “Hmm?”

She lifts her eyebrows. “You’re staring like you have something to say.” 

“Oh! No, I just like watching you draw. You’re really good. What is it meant to be?”

“Thanks.” She can’t help but crack a small smile. “My portfolio is a study on faces. This is the abstract one. Or, at least, I’m trying to make it be.” Her pencil moves quickly across the paper, scratching out a displaced eye.

She continues to draw and Peter doesn’t ask any more questions, just eats his lunch in silence. Before long, the bell signaling the end of lunch period rings. Peter stands up from the bench and collects his books, about to leave.

MJ swallows the unusually large lump in her throat and closes her sketchbook. “Hey, Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“In a couple weeks my class is having an exhibition night where we showcase all our work. Do-”  _ C’mon, MJ, you said you wanted friends, right? Don’t be a pussy and chicken out now _ . “Do you and Ned wanna, like, come and see? It’s dumb but, whatever.”

Peter’s eyes do that thing, where they get all wide and puppy-dog and it makes his face look all joyful and shit. “Oh! Oh, yeah! Yeah, that would be, uh-” he scratches the back of his head and he looks so freakin’ awkward MJ almost wants to laugh. “That would be cool. I’ll tell Ned. We’ll definitely be there.”

“Okay, loser. See you in class.” MJ grins and walks away, knowing Peter will be still standing there watching her leave. 

He’s weird like that.

 

* * *

 

MJ never usually cares what people think about her. She just does her own thing. Marches to the beat of her own drum, or whatever. But the night of the art show, she’s uncharacteristically nervous. 

Seb and her mom have been and gone, visiting her section of the classroom wall and spending an appropriate amount of Parent (and supplementary parent) Time ™  staring at her drawings and attempting to discuss them with her, before going out on a date. People from her school filter past over the next hour. Betty Brant stops briefly to tell her how good her art looks, which is nice. She also asks if “your friend Ned” has arrived yet, looking over her shoulder at the door. MJ’s pretty sure there’s something going on there, but she’s not nosy enough to bother - something to file away in her brain to bring up next lunch with the boys.

Speaking of the boys: it’s almost 9pm, and they haven’t arrived yet. MJ tries not to obsessively check her watch, because she’s not desperate, it’s fine. It’s just the exhibition closes at 9. And she kinda really wanted Peter and Ned to see her art. Especially Peter. For some dumb reason that she can’t quite pinpoint. It’s not like MJ to care about something so much, and even weirder when she can’t place why she cares at all.

MJ’s about to give up and start taking her art down when she hears a commotion outside the classroom door.

_ “We’re so freakin’ late, Peter, oh my God, what are we gonna tell her, she’s gonna be so mad-” _

And then the door bursts open and there’s Ned and Peter, both red-faced from running down the hallway, and more than a little damp. It must be raining outside.

They both rush over to MJ’s corner, wet shoes leaving prints in the carpet. (She sees her art teacher looking at the two boys in disgust, and it makes her smile, because, well - sometimes it’s fun to see a teacher pissed off on purpose.)

“MJ, we’re  _ so  _ sorry, it was all Peter’s fault. He had a-” Ned glances at Peter, who’s giving him those wide  _ donttellheranything _ eyes she sees way too often. “Chores to do?” He ends on a question when it shouldn’t be, and Peter shakes his head a miniscule amount, like  _ bro, you fucked up _ .

“Uh, yeah. Chores.” Peter turns to face her, an apologetic smile on his face. She notices the still slightly bleeding cut above his eye, the scrape on his jaw, and the bruise flowering across his left hand knuckles.  _ Right. Chores. Read: superhero time _ . “We’re really so sorry, MJ. We wanted to get here so bad!” Peter’s voice goes all soft the way it does when he’s apologising, and his eyes go so fucking doe-like it’s ridiculous. Ned looks the same. She can’t stay mad at either of them.

MJ rolls her eyes but grins. “It’s fine. There’s still a couple minutes left of the exhibition, so go ahead and look around!”

She watches Peter and Ned sweep their eyes across the room at each student’s exhibitions. One girl in her class chose to paint multiple different portraits of Spider-Man. She watches Peter gulp and turn back to face her.

“Nah, it’s cool. We came here just to see you.” The smile he gives her makes her feel...something. She’s not sure what yet. (Another thing to file away and mull over later.)

“Yeah, everyone else kinda sucks compared to you, because oh my God, MJ, you are  _ amazing _ at art! What the hell!” Ned steps forward to look at her drawings, loudly exclaiming his praise at each one. “How did you get the lines so perfectly wobbly on this one? And the colour on this one -  _ beautiful _ . It’s a joke how good this is!” He’s so loud that other parents are starting to stare, and the teacher looks even more annoyed at noise in his nice, civilised art show, and MJ is  _ living  _ for it.

“Since when did you become an art critic?” MJ laughs. “But thanks, Ned.”

Peter, on the other hand, hasn’t said much so far. He’s just standing there, looking at the art. Taking time to study each piece, his fingers air-tracing the lines she’s drawn. His lips are parted in wonder and his eyes are all soft and when the  _ fuck  _ did she go all Stephenie Meyer on herself.

“You alright there, Pete?” she jokes. His eyes snap up to meet hers.

“Oh! Yeah. Yeah, you’re just really, really good. Like, this is so awesome. So cool. Wow.”

“I know, you told me the other day, loser.” He looks like a deer in the headlights, and it’s taking all she has not to laugh. “Seriously, though, thanks. It, uh, means a lot.” He keeps his eyes focused on hers and smiles, and now she’s the one who feels like a deer. 

“Okay, students. The exhibition time is drawing to a close.” Her art teachers voice is a welcome interruption. Saved by the bell, or whatever. “Please collect your art and place them in ordered piles on top of my desk before you leave. Thanks for coming, everyone.” 

It takes a couple of minutes before MJ, Peter and Ned manage to take all her art down and stack them neatly. Seeing her work put together like that feels strangely good. It’s not often MJ does something that she’s really proud of, but tonight she is.

The three of them make their way to the door and out into the hallway, Peter and Ned in front and MJ close behind. She can hear them whispering to each other as they walk towards the carpark, but can’t quite figure out what they’re saying.

Before they get to the big entry doors and the rain outside, Ned stops and turns around to face her. 

“Hey, MJ, I know it’s kind of late, but did you want to come get some fro-yo with Peter and I?”

She tries to pretend like she’s not warmed by the suggestion. “Fro-yo?” she smirks. “Really?”

Ned frowns and feigns like he’s hurt. “I’m offended, MJ. Fro-yo is supremely better than ice-cream and that’s a fact. Sweet  _ and  _ tangy? Can’t get better than that. Also, May is trying to make Peter go sugar-free-  _ ow! _ ” He rubs the spot on his shoulder where Peter punched him and groans.

Peter shoots Ned a cheeky glare. “Not true. Ned just really likes fro-yo.” He shifts his gaze to MJ, who’s still standing awkwardly behind them, fiddling with the strap on her leather satchel. “There’s a really nice place down the street. You should come?”

They both look so desperate for her company that she’d feel bad if she says no. (Or, at least, that’s what she tells herself to mask the fact that she kinda actually wants to hang out with these dorks.) “Yeah, sure. Why not. It can’t be that bad, can it?”

It’s not. They get fro-yo at the nice place down the street that does turn out to serve desserts that are perfectly sweet  _ and  _ tangy. Peter almost gets yoghurt all down his shirt because Ned laughs so hard at a story MJ tells about her stick-up-the-ass art teacher that he knocks Peter’s cup with his elbow. MJ drops her spoon on the floor and the boys play Odds with her to see if she has to lick it - she wins, and Ned has to lick it instead. It’s disgusting but hilarious and they laugh way too hard at it. They take the subway home together because they live a couple blocks away from each other, a fact that’s pointed out by Ned as they’re riding home.

“There’s no excuse for you not to hang out with us now, MJ. We came to your art show. You ate our fro-yo. And you live like five freakin’ minutes away.” He grins and pokes her playfully on the shoulder. “You’re kinda one of us now. A couple more months of initiation and you might even get your own secret handshake.”

MJ laughs and leans her head against the dirty subway car window. “You guys are the biggest losers I’ve ever met.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Peter looking at her. He smiles.


	2. the beach house and the dare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is FINALLY here. sorry about the wait. I hope it lives up to expectations Lol ENJOY

Sophomore year is quickly drawing to a close, and MJ can’t believe that Peter and Ned still think she doesn’t know about Spider-Man.

Peter leaves AcaDec practice early almost weekly. He comes in late to school with bruises on his knuckles that earn strange glances from teachers who aren’t sure if they should be reporting some kind of domestic abuse to the school counsellors, or if Peter Parker suddenly got all tough guy and enjoyed engaging in fights after school (which is stupid, because who would he fight? it’s not like Midtown Tech is brimming with testosterone-pumped jocks). He tries to be secretive in chemistry lab, but she still sees him making some weird white substance in test tubes that isn’t related to their projects. MJ’s even spotted a familiar-looking red-and-blue costume shoved under Peter’s bed, which she saw the one day her and Ned visited Peter after school when he was “off sick”.

Given the absolute blatant obvious-ness of the situation, it’s kind of embarrassing that the boys think MJ - a genius on practically all levels - has no idea.

This somewhat changes during finals week of sophomore year.

“Fuck finals, man. This sucks.”

“Watch yo’ profanity, MJ,” Ned sing-songs. He’s been procrastinating study by watching dumb Vine compilations on YouTube for at least an hour. (She has to admit they’re pretty funny.)

Peter groans from his place lying spread-eagled on the carpet, textbook flopped over his face. “I honestly thought sophomore year was gonna be a walk in the park,” he says, voice muffled by hundreds of pages of paper. “Oh, how I wish I could go back to when I was young and innocent.”

MJ grins at Peter’s lame attempt at humour and checks her watch. 4:15 pm. They’ve been studying at Peter’s apartment since the morning, with minimal breaks because, you know, they’re good students. All the cramming makes her brain feels like it’s melting. Which is nice.

“I think we need a break,” she says, standing up from her spot on the couch and stretching out her tired body, pretending not to notice that Peter’s trying his hardest not to stare. “You guys up for coffee?”

Ned says, “Coffee? In the afternoon?” at the same time Peter exclaims, “Yes!”

MJ grins. “I’ll buy.”

Ned jumps up and grabs his bag. “Well, I can’t say no to that, can I?”

They’re halfway out the door when Peter stops dead in his tracks, a faraway look in his eyes. Then he snaps out of it, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes open and shut, like he’s trying to shake something out of his mind.

“I-I just forgot I have to...do…something. Real quick. I’ll meet up with you guys later.” He widens his eyes at Ned, makes a subtle jerking motion with his jaw. Ned squints at him for a second, obviously trying to figure out what’s going on. Then-

“Oh. Oh. Yeah. That’s okay. We’ll just, uh, see you there. You need help? With anything?”

MJ resists the urge to roll her eyes as she and Ned walk out into the hallway. _Oh my God_ , she thinks, _they’ve got to be kidding_.

As the doors of the elevator shut, MJ turns to Ned, an amused look on her face.

“Ned.”

“Uh, yeah?”

This is probably the first time they’ve been alone without Peter (which sounds impossible, seeing as they all hang out so much, but it’s honestly true). It’s...cool. But also a little strange. Peter has always kinda been their buffer; an in-between guy, bridging the gap between the two of them. But MJ likes Ned, and thinks he’s a great dude, so-

“I know Peter is Spider-Boy, or whatever. You can stop pretending there’s nothing going on. Frankly, I’m a little hurt that you two think I’m dumb enough to still have no idea.” She punctuates the sentence with a cheeky smirk.

MJ was expecting Ned to sputter like an idiot, try to make up excuses or lies, or to be so shocked that he doesn’t say a thing. Instead, he lets out a huge breath in one big whoosh, like he’s been holding the air in for months. He leans his head against the cool metal of the elevator walls and laughs.

“That is some _good news_. I was getting stuck with ideas for how to explain away everything.”

MJ laughs, too. “You gotta promise me you won’t tell Peter, though. It’s so funny to watch him struggle.”

Ned laughs again. “You’re evil.”

The doors of the elevator open, and they step into the lobby of the apartment block. It’s busy this afternoon, with people returning home from work and kids from school. The concierge waves at them as they leave the building. They come here so often to hang out with Peter and Aunt May, he knows them both by name.

“So. Spider powers. Walk me through it?”

* * *

 

Finals week comes and goes with little fanfare. The exams are easier than MJ expected, and whether that’s because she studied hard or she just got lucky, she’ll never know. What she does know is that freedom is here, and it tastes sweet, and a little like sweat because: summer.

It’s not long before she’s graduating sophomore year. A trip to the fro-yo place with the boys after school on the last day. Burning their books in the dumpster behind Peter’s apartment block then frantically trying to put it out before everything catches on fire, because while they might be academic geniuses (and one of them a superhero), the three of them are dumb teenagers at heart.

It feels like it took a long time for her to get to this point, hanging out with Peter and Ned like they’ve been friends forever. Ned, always the dorky Disney Prince that he is, laughing at all her jokes, inviting her, her mom and Seb over for dinner with his family almost weekly, and being the best portrait model for her art. Peter, who’s not always awkward and stuttering anymore but hilarious, and sarcastic, and offputting-ly handsome. It’s messing with her brain a little bit. Like it has since the day he and Ned came to visit her art exhibition, and she realised she wanted to be friends with her peers for the first time in her adolescent life, and she saw Peter’s wonder-filled face as he complimented her art. It’s dumb, it’s so dumb - and she tells herself this over, and over, and over again until the word becomes tediously repetitive and she doesn’t quite believe it anymore.

“Don’t you think it’s a little weird that your two best friends are boys?” her mom asks one evening when she’s making dinner. MJ’s mom, Angie, looks eerily similar to her daughter (because, well, duh, shared genetics), but her skin is darker and her smile a little wider. “I mean, you’re almost seventeen, honey. Shouldn’t you have some girlfriends?”

MJ shrugs. “Why does it matter? We’re just friends.”

Her mom pauses to look at her while she’s stirring the spaghetti sauce, and raises an eyebrow. “You sure you’re just friends? What about that Peter kid? He’s cute.”

MJ doesn’t give enough respect to the comment to even roll her eyes. And who cares if she feels a little sick at the mention of Peter’s name? “So I can’t be ‘just friends’ with a guy without me falling head over heels for him? That’s mildly misogynistic of you, mom,” she says, deadpan, but on her lips the tiniest of grins.

Her mom laughs. It sounds nothing like MJ’s laugh, which is usually little more than a chuckle. Instead, it’s vibrant and loud. “Yeah, that’s the girl I birthed and raised.”

Later, when she’s lying in her twin bed trying not to die in the Queens heat, MJ realises with a start that something terrible has just happened. You know when someone tells you they think someone else likes you, or they think you’d be cute together, and before you never really ever saw that person that way, but when someone points it out to you, it seems. So. Obvious.

Peter Parker. Peter _fucking_ Parker.

Who’s also a fucking superhero, which is a whole other can of worms. Like, it’s bad enough that she has to admit she likes a boy. Even worse when she has to worry if he’s actually going to make it home from one of his late-night skirmishes with law-breakers or a battle royale with the Avengers against some supervillain. And yeah, she and Ned worry about him already, just as friends. But it feels a little more concrete, a little more serious, when romance is involved.

 _Romance_. Listen to her sit and talk about _romance_.

MJ isn’t the type to pretentiously label herself as ‘not like other girls’, because that’s total BS. Girls can be anything they want to be. But she’s gotta admit - it’s not like her to have a crush on someone. A crush. There it is. She’s got a crush on Peter Parker. This is ridiculous.

* * *

 

School ends, and summer break begins, and MJ tries desperately to ignore the voice in the back of her head that beats _peter peter peter_ every day, every time she looks at him, every time he laughs. She hasn’t told anyone of course, except for her mom, who kind of guessed it. She doesn’t consider Betty to be as close of a friend yet to tell this kind of shit to, and Liz moved away, and she wouldn’t tell Ned in a million years because the kid can’t keep a secret to save his life (the Spider-Man thing being the only exception). It’s just her and her intrusive thoughts about Peter when she watches him swimming at the community pool, walking alongside Ned through Flushing Meadows on their way to the Zoo, quietly reading a book on the F Train home from a day out in the city.

The last weekend of summer, the three of them get a Facebook invite titled “PARTY OF THE SUMMER 2017!!!” from Betty Brant, with the location being the Brants beach house in the Hamptons. Betty’s parents are loaded. It’s sick. MJ’s never been but she’s seen the photos on Betty’s instagram. The description of the event says that it will be a weekend away at the beach house, parents absent (away on a Caribbean cruise), bring your own alcohol if you are that way inclined. Her mom lets her go because she knows MJ’s not a drinker, and also probably because she knows that if Peter and Ned are around, MJ can’t get into too much trouble. Which is funny, because trouble follows Peter everywhere he goes - although admittedly it’s more supervillain end-of-the-world trouble rather than getting drunk at parties.

Ned has his own car because, like Betty, his parents are also loaded. The three of them make the hour and a half drive across Long Island to Hampton Bay, Peter in the back seat and MJ in the front - because she’s the tallest and needs space to stretch her legs. She fought Peter over the control of the AUX, but he won with rock over her scissors, and now they’re stuck listening to Foals for the duration of the trip. Which is actually fine, because MJ likes a good headbanger every now and again.

“You know, I’ve never been to the Hamptons before,” Peter says, chomping on some caramel popcorn they picked up from a store on the way, feet kicked up on MJ’s chair’s armrest. “I bet it’s nice.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s beautiful. My uncle and aunt have a house up here,” Ned replied, waving his hand like it’s nothing.

Peter’s feet slip off the armrest and he leans forward to face Ned, eyes wide, looking like he’s just suffered a personal attack from his best friend. “You mean to tell me you’ve got family up here and you’ve never bothered to let me come with you to visit!”

Ned laughs, and so does MJ, because Peter is being ridiculous, and it’s cute.

* * *

 

They arrive at the beach house in the late afternoon. ‘Beach house’ is the wrong term, MJ thinks. More like beach mansion. Two stories and sprawling, with a giant backyard, a pool, a small tennis court, and a fucking theatre inside. They’re not the first to get there - Sally, Abe, Seymour, Charles and Cindy had also carpooled and arrived earlier. Flash and Jason turn up late with an entourage of freshmen girls - most of whom MJ guesses were not invited - in Flash’s dad’s Audi, speakers blaring Chris Brown, like it’s 2009. There’s a big group of juniors MJ doesn’t recognise, and frankly, she doesn’t care who they are. She’s not here at this party to make friends - I mean, the fact she’s here at a party is a miracle at all. She has Ned, and Peter, and the guys from AcaDec, and that’s all she needs or wants.

Betty is the perfect host, running around making sure everyone is having a good time, handing out cups for people to pour their beer into and bowls of popcorn. Someone puts on a playlist that contains an extortionate amount of Cardi B. A beer pong table is set up outside in the courtyard. People are stripping down into their swimsuits and bombing into the pool. The tennis court is in use, hosting a team of definitely tipsy sophomores swinging racquets around like they know what they’re doing. One of the bedrooms near the back of the house has already been turned into the designated makeout spot - MJ’s discovered this more than once when venturing out to find the bathroom.

Ned is a massive lightweight. Peter and MJ find this out when he has three beers and vomits all over the lawn, and Peter has to carry him to the bathroom to clean him up. And, like, Ned’s not a small guy, so it’s a bit of a feat, but Peter uses his super-muscles to transport him and MJ pretends not to notice that he’s suspiciously strong and his arms look incredible flexing through his shirt.

MJ follows the boys into the bathroom, calling out directions to Peter to stop Ned’s head bumping against the wall. People give the three of them weird looks, and MJ just has to laugh, because they do look like a bunch of idiots.

Ned is now what Peter jokingly calls “worshipping the porcelain throne”, dry heaving into the toilet.

Peter is crouching next to his best friend, hand rubbing circles on Ned’s back, because he’s nothing if not kind. MJ’s kind of (okay - _really_ ) touched by the image. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back onto the bathroom counter, trying to give off airs that she’s not really bothered, but she can feel her heart thumping in her chest when Peter looks up at her with a smile.

“You’re a really good friend, Parker.”

“Really? Oh. Thanks, MJ. Means a lot coming from you.” He stops rubbing Ned’s back to push his ridiculously floppy hair off of his forehead. A faint blush lights up his cheeks. MJ’s heart beats double time.

Ned groans and mumbles something that sounds like “ _just kiss already_ ”.

They both laugh in embarrassment. “He’s drunk,” Peter says with a shrug, but when he looks over at MJ a second or two later, something flashes across his face that she hasn’t seen before. Something curious, maybe a little bit dangerous. (She could be writing a fucking Wattpad novel by this point. The sentimentality she’s exuding is disgusting.)

“ _I know what I’m saying_ ,” Ned slurs, head still in the toilet bowl. Peter rolls his eyes.

“Ignore him.”

“Don’t worry,” MJ smirks. “I am.” She’s not.

The night moves on and becomes a little blurred around the edges after that. Ned sobers up a bit, but not enough to stop him adorably trying to talk with Betty. MJ’s not really a drinker, and Peter isn’t either (she’s not sure how much of that is because of his own morals or underage-ness, or if superheroes can’t get drunk?), so the two of them mooch around the party with single cups of lukewarm beer in their hands so they don’t get any funny looks, chatting to and dancing with friends.

At some point, everyone decides to have a mass swim in the giant pool, and those who weren’t already in their swimsuits strip off and run down to the garden where the pool is. Ned runs off with Betty and her friends, which is surprising but cute, and the main house is emptied out at an alarming rate. MJ and Peter hang back, not drunk enough to make rash decisions.

“Are you gonna swim?” Peter asks, somewhat awkwardly, as they make their way out through the house. He’s without a shirt, having lost it way earlier in the evening, and the movement of his half-naked body as he walks alongside her is enough to give MJ a headache.

“I don’t know. Not usually my kinda thing, you know.” Yeah, right. She has her suit on under her shorts and t-shirt.

Peter looks disheartened. “Oh. Yeah, I figured. It could be fun, though. Like, this house is amazing. Who knows when we’ll get to do this again?”

He looks so damn hopeful that she’ll give up her moody act and have a little fun that MJ can’t help but give in much quicker than she normally would. “Okay,” she says with a small grin. “But only if you come in with me.”

Peter performs a mock bow, which is so dumb MJ laughs out loud and pushes his shoulder so he almost falls over. She motions for him to go ahead, and ducks behind a wall to pull off her clothes in privacy. When she comes out, Peter’s still there waiting for her at the door, and his eyes widen ever-so-slightly at the sight of her in her smooth black one-piece. This feels like a fucking movie again, but she doesn’t feel like an outcast, or a weirdo, or a friendless loner walking the halls of nameless high schools all across the country, scared to make friends. She feels like she’s seen, and wanted, and cared about. It’s a beautiful and unnerving feeling.

They walk down the path to the pool, and Peter keeps stealing glances at her when he thinks she’s not looking. The sound of everyone playing in the water is too loud for them to have a proper conversation, but MJ doesn’t even know what she’d say. _Hey, Parker, I kind of think you’re kind of attractive and I kind of have a crush on you. Also, I know you’re Spider-Man._ Yeah, no thanks.

Ned’s already in the pool, splashing around with some of the other boys, flirting shamelessly with Betty - who, to MJ’s pleasant surprise, is flirting back. She sits down at the edge of the pool, dangling her legs in the warm water. Ned yells at Peter to get his ass in the pool, and she hears Peter yell _coming_! from somewhere behind her back, then watches as he sprints across the tiles and flips into the water. Droplets splash MJ’s face, and she wipes her cheeks and laughs, feeling uncharacteristically free. Peter comes up for air, floppy hair sticking to his forehead, water dripping from his nose.

He swims over to her, resting his arms on the edge of the pool.

“You’re such a show off,” she says. “You know that, right?”

He just grins.

It’s not like MJ’s blind or an idiot. Despite the fact that she tends to dress exclusively in loose-fitting dresses from thrift stores, bulky denim jackets and black turtlenecks, she knows she’s not ugly, maybe even kind of pretty. And while her self-esteem levels aren’t through the roof, they’re high enough to realise that she’s capable of being the object of someone’s desire. She just never thought it would be Peter that would be looking at her the way he is now. Like he can see straight through her.

Fucking hell, man. What is she supposed to do?

* * *

 

After midnight, the party cools down a little.

Most of the other kids at this party have either gone home, are staying off site (MJ heard one of the juniors bragging about his parents beach house not too far from here), or are asleep upstairs. The rest of the them - the AcaDec team, mostly - are in the downstairs living room, either lounging on the leather couches or tucked up in blankets and pillows on the floor. Ned’s sitting with Betty on one of the couches. They’re not cuddling or anything, but every time Betty says something to Ned she leans in really close, and MJ grins internally when she sees her friend’s face go bright pink. MJ is sitting cross-legged on the carpet, still in her swimsuit but with her heavy grey sweater thrown over top. Peter’s leaning against one of the couches, smiling at something Cindy’s telling him.

And then Flash, the absolute asswipe that he is, has to ruin it all and suggest they play Seven Minutes in Heaven.

It seems like everybody but MJ thinks its a fucking genius idea. Even Peter. Her chest tightens a little when the thought enters her mind: _who’s he excited about maybe kissing? Is it Cindy? God, it’s totally Cindy_. Oh, God. Screw the universe for making her care about who Peter Parker might be interested in kissing.

An empty bottle of Sprite is presented as the spinning device to choose who’s turn it is. Seymour takes the first spin. It lands on Sally. Everyone eggs the two on as they disappear into the bedroom off the hallway just outside the living room, and they appear again exactly seven minutes later with flushed cheeks and coy smiles.

Peter is next.

Everyone cheers him on as the bottle spins. And then. And _then_. It stops. On MJ. Her heart lurches.

Peter looks just as surprised. _But is that a good surprise, or an oh man I wish it was Cindy surprise?_ MJ holds back from smacking herself in the head because oh, my _God_ would her brain shut up?

She watches, speechless - like she’s having an out of body experience, like she’s been abducted by aliens and they’ve placed her in an alternate universe where she ends up in a kissing game with her best friend who’s the legitimate _Spider-Man_ (!) - as Peter stands up and walks timidly over to her.

“I really don’t think-”

“ _MJ_ -” Peter interrupts, his voice a low whisper, almost pleading. “I promise nothing’s gonna happen.” He sticks out his pinky. “Pinky promise.”

MJ rolls her eyes. “We’re not in fourth grade, Parker.” She crooks her pinky and slips it through his, however. Peter looks relieved.

“C’mon, you guys, get on with it!” Flash calls, gesturing for them to stand up and move into the bedroom. MJ raises her eyebrows and glares at Flash, trying to be menacing like _I will kill you if you say another word_ , but the faint blush on her cheeks gives it away. She grabs Peter’s whole hand and he drags her to her feet, and she pulls him behind her into the dark room, their dumb friends catcalling and wolf-whistling (even Ned, which, like, is traitorous).

Peter yanks the door shut behind them. “You’ve got seven minutes, guys! Set your watches!” Cindy’s voice calls, muffled through the wall.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to go overtime,” she hears Flash snigger.

MJ sighs loudly and flops onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Glow-in-the-dark stars are scattered across the white paint, the only source of light in the room. Under the neon glow, she can barely make out Peter’s silhouette.

“This is ridiculous,” she groans, sitting up to face the doorway, where she can kind of see Peter leaning against the doorframe. “Right?”

Peter chuckles. “Ridiculous is like, your favourite word.”

She falls back onto the bed. The bed sinks a little as Peter comes down to lay beside her. “Yeah, well. Life has been more than a little ridiculous lately.”

“How so?”

“You know, just, life, I guess. Mom and Seb are talking about marriage. I don’t know how I feel about that, since the last time my mom was married, my father left her when she was pregnant with me. And I don’t want her to get hurt again. And then there’s all that weird stuff that went down at the beginning of the year in D.C.” She hears him suck in a quick breath, and secretly smiles. He still thinks she’s got no idea. Good one, Ned. Keeping another secret. “And you, and Ned…”

“What’s weird about me and Ned?” He interjects.

She laughs. “Nothing! Everything! I don’t know. It’s weird having...friends. Ugh. Whatever. All this is making me emotional. My apologies.”

MJ feels Peter poke her in the arm. “The Great Michelle Jones has a heart. Who would have thunk it.”

“Okay, okay. What about you? Surely your life is ridiculous, too.”

“Oh, you know,” he says, trying his absolute hardest to act nonchalant. “Nothing crazy.”

She grins. “Sure, sure, Parker.”

MJ then checks the stopwatch on her phone. They’ve been in here for five minutes already. Feels like a lifetime.

“This is supremely dumb, isn’t it? This game. It’s getting people high off of forced sexual encounters. Like, gross. Is this some kind of exhibitionism? What’s the bet everyone’s listening to us outside the door. Probably hoping they’ll hear some moans or whatever. _You guys are freaking gross_!” she yells, hoping the kids who are probably crammed into the hallway will hear her.

Peter laughs, full and loud and short. “You’re crazy.”

They fall into an easy silence. Twenty seconds feels like a long time when you’re not saying anything and the person you desperately want to talk to is laying right there, just in reach. But despite that, it’s easy. Comfortable. Regardless of anything else, MJ and Peter have become genuinely good friends, and chilling in silence feels some kind of normal.

“Hey, MJ?” Peter’s voice is soft. Although she can’t see him, she’ll place money on the bet that his eyes look soft, too. And his skin, his hands, his whole face. Gentle, soft, safe. _Screw this romantic shit_ , she tries to force herself to think, _what am I doing?_

Somehow they moved closer together on the edge of the bed, and at some point sat up next to each other, and now their shoulders are touching. And if she wasn’t quite sure of it before, she’s sure now - she’s definitely in an 80s movie. Somebody please pinch her. Or eject the tape from the VCR.

“I know I said before I wouldn’t, but. Do you think- you know- you don’t have to do anything, I’ve just been thinking about it for a long time, and- you think it would be okay if I kissed you?”

Turns out she’s not made of stone, because MJ’s heart _legitimately_ skips a beat. She barely thinks about the next words that come out of her mouth.

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” Peter says, sounding mildly surprised. “Oh. I thought. You would say no. I don’t really-”

MJ rolls her eyes, like she’s done so many times at Peter, and grabs the front of his shirt before she can think twice. “Just kiss me, Parker.”

And, then. It’s fucking happening. MJ’s kissing Peter Parker. And he’s kissing back. This is a joke. This has got to be a fucking joke.

Peter reaches up to touch her face, his thumb grazing the edge of her jaw, under her ear, along her neck. Lips moving slowly, steadily against hers. He doesn’t taste like anything special. Just Peter (and maybe a bit of beer). And it’s so _good_. There’s no fireworks, no declarations of love. Instead, a steady, soft beating light that radiates throughout her whole body and makes her shiver.

All she can think is _peter peter peter freaking peter parker holy shit,_  the words running on a constant loop in her brain, no off switch in sight. It’s exhilarating. And then the lights flip on. And then-

“Wo-o-oah! Parker and Jones gettin’ it on!” Flash Fucking Thompson.

MJ and Peter pull away in an instant, like they’ve just touched a hot stove. Peter’s face flushes bright red, redder than she’s ever seen it, and if she wasn’t so embarrassed herself, she’d laugh. But Flash.  _Flash_. Out of all people.

“Fuck off, Eugene,” MJ snarls, flipping him the bird for good measure.

Flash fakes surprise. “Michelle, I’m hurt.” Then he laughs and leaves the room, rushing downstairs to the rest of their friends, yelling at the top of his voice about what he’s just walked in on.

MJ could not be more uncomfortable. Peter is just sitting there. Saying nothing. Lips slightly red. Face _very_ red.

“Fuck- MJ, I’m so sorry-” Peter stutters, and his voice snaps her out of her shock.

She ubruptly stands, tugging her sweater down so it covers more of her legs. She didn’t care before, but now she feels totally underdressed. And totally an idiot. Who the hell does she think she is, walking around in a swimsuit and sweatshirt, kissing a boy in the dark, playing Seven Minutes in Heaven at a freaking high school party? “It’s fine. It’s fine. I’m, uh, gonna go to the bathroom.” She turns and leaves the room without a look back at him.

* * *

 

The first day of junior year is a couple days after the party at Betty’s. MJ has been desperately trying to not let it be weird between them, and their group text messages and constant meme-sharing tell her that things are cool between her and Peter, and Ned, too. But she hasn’t seen either of them in person since the morning Ned dropped her home after the party, and she’s dreading it.

Surprisingly, the first day turns out just fine. Which, really, she shouldn’t have worried about so much, because Ned and Peter are the two most supremely cool people she knows. It’s like the kiss between her and Peter never happened. Ned doesn’t even make one joke about it. It’s weird, though. She kind of wants to talk about it. Like, it feels like it’s something that should be talked about. It’s something important. (At least, it is to her.)

MJ decides to confront Peter about it as they’re leaving the subway station after school.

“Look, Pete. About that night. I was drunk. So were you. Let’s just forget about it.” Except they weren’t drunk. Not even a little bit. She swallows the lie and sticks out her hand, pausing to turn to him in the middle of the busy street. “Friends?”

Peter looks like he’s trying very hard to will his body to disappear through the concrete. “Yeah. Friends,” he replies, shaking her hand like this is a business deal and not the most awkward situation either of them have ever been in. MJ notices his palms are sweaty. Or is it hers that are? Ah, shit, why is her heart beating double-time? This whole thing has totally screwed with her moody-artsy-emo-girl persona. “Always.”

MJ lets go of his hand and slings her bag over her shoulder. “Okay. Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Peter grins, and it’s as gorgeous and sweet as usual, except that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “See ya, MJ.”

She turns and begins walking in the opposite direction, feeling his eyes on her back. He’s probably watching her leave again. He does that sometimes.

She smiles to herself. Yeah, he’s weird like that.

**Author's Note:**

> THERE SHALL BE MORE. and at least one more work in a series too.
> 
> follow me on tumblr @buckebarns and cry about peter with me


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